Ephemeral
by Diana A. Wolfe
Summary: (Will contain spoilers for AoU) She met the Maximoff twins when she was just a little girl, but after the bombs fell, killing her uncle and their parents, they lost touch. This story will tell you what happened after, and what made these young people into who they are, and what happens when they meet again.
1. Chapter 1: The First Summer

**CHAPTER 1**

 _The First Summer_

A little girl was sitting on the curb, running her fingers through the synthetic, blonde hair of the doll in her lap. "Vanja, come on," a voice shouted from behind her. The little girl turned her head to face her parents and grandparents, who stood by a fully packed car. She rose shakily up onto her legs before running as fast as she could into her father's arms, laughing as he made a funny face.

"Are you sure you've got everything?" the elderly woman asked the younger, who nodded. "I'm sure, mom. We better get going now," she replied as she opened the door to the driver's seat. "You better remember to give your brother the gifts," the woman's father reminded her. "And drive safely. You know how they drive so close to the border." The woman laughed before kissing her father's cheek. "I'll make sure to remember," she said before getting into the car, joining her husband and daughter. "We'll see you!" the elderly couple shouted as they waved at the car which drove down the neighborhood.

* * *

They drove for hours and hours, but the girl in the backseat didn't seem to mind as she played with her doll and the other brightly colored toys she had brought with her. She wasn't really sure where they were going, only that they were going to visit Uncle Aleks. As the sun was setting and she watched the sunflowers fly past the car's window, her eyes felt heavy and before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.

* * *

She woke up feeling a cold breeze on her bare legs, and she made a noise of discomfort. "Wake up, my doll. We're here," her father whispered, trying to coax her from her slumber. The little girl opened her eyes, huffing as she crawled over to her father, who took her into his arms as he walked towards Aleksandar, his wife's brother. "Is this little Vanja?" he asked as he gently poked the girl's cheek. She nodded in response, her hand rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "You've gotten so big! Like an elephant," Aleks exclaimed with a laugh. The girl couldn't help but smile, stretching her arms towards her uncle for him to carry her inside.

As they made their way up the stairs, laughter could be heard echoing throughout the building. When they reached the floor below Aleks's apartment, the laughter grew louder, and two dark-haired children were running around the hallway. "Aleks," they shouted as they ran towards him. "Aleks, Aleks! I did the trick you taught me," the boy exclaimed. "You should have seen the faces of the older boys. I think they'll let me play with them now." Aleks laughed as he used his free hand to tousle the young boy's hair. "I bet! That's good, Pietro. Next time I will teach you something else, okay?" Aleks said as he crouched in front of him, setting Vanja down onto the floor. "Will you do it now? Please?" Pietro begged, his eyes gleaming at the thought of Aleks teaching him more football tricks. "I can't right now. I have visitors," Aleks replied as he hugged Vanja closer. "Who is she?" the shy girl behind Pietro asked, her face almost hidden by her long, dark hair. "Do you want to tell them who you are?" Aleks asked his niece, who shook her head as she kept her eyes on the two children opposite her. "Come on, they won't bite," her uncle laughed, but the girl only mumbled before hiding her face in her uncle's chest. "She is a little shy," he explained to the two older children. "Just like Wanda?" Pietro asked, gazing at his twin sister. "Yes, just like Wanda," Aleks replied with a smile.

Suddenly a door behind the children opened and their mother came out. "Pietro! Wanda! What are you doing? Are you bothering Aleks again?" their mother lightly scolded them. As Wanda ran to her mother, Aleks laughed. "They weren't bothering me, Marya. Pietro was just telling me about the cool trick he did the other day." Pietro smiled at his mother proudly before running towards her. "When I grow up, I will be just like Aleks, mother," he declared as he wrapped his arms around her leg. Marya looked down at her son and smiled fondly.  
When she return her gaze towards the younger tenant, she spotted the small girl wrapped in his arms. "Oh, who do we have here?" she asked, smiling softly at the sight. "This is my niece, Vanja," Aleks revealed as he tried to remove the girl from his chest, so she could meet Marya. "It is nice to meet you, Vanja," Marya greeted as she rested her hand on top of Pietro's head, but the little girl only returned to her previous position, hiding her face from the strange people. "Is your sister visiting?" Marya asked, remembering Aleks had previously mentioned it. "And her husband, yes. We have a lot of family here in Sokovia, so they're staying here for two-three weeks," Aleks explained. "Well, if Vanja needs anyone to play with, just send her down. I bet Wanda won't mind playing with a girl for once," Marya laughed, as Aleks picked his niece back up. "Would you like that?" he asked her. Vanja looked at Wanda, who was hiding behind her mother's skirt. She leaned her head against her uncle's shoulder while nodding. "Looks like it's a deal," Aleks affirmed, as he saw Wanda give a timid smile. "I'll see you around, you little devils," Aleks said with a wink before Marya ushered her children inside, closing the door behind her.  
"Who are those people?" Vanja questioned as her uncle carried her up the stairs to his apartment. "They are friends. I work with Pietro and Wanda's father. His name is Django," Aleks explained, trudging his way up the steps. "Do you think you will be friends with them?" Vanja raised her head and looked at her uncle before rubbing her nose. "Yes. We will be best friends," she declared, making her uncle chuckle.

* * *

When the doorbell rang the following day, and Wanda stood outside in her red dress, Natalia, Vanja's mother, wasn't surprised, her brother having told her about the agreement with the Maximoffs. "Is Vanja here?" the small girl asked, her voice small. Natalia moved to the side before calling her daughter's name out. When Vanja appeared by the kitchen door, Wanda smiled at her, giving her a wave. "Go get your jacket, then you can go," Natalia ordered before turning back to Wanda with a soft smile. As Vanja returned with and her light jacket, Natalia helped her put it on. "Now remember, you come home when Wanda does, and if you behave well, maybe you will get an ice-cream later, both of you, okay?" Wanda and Vanja looked at each other before nodding eagerly causing Natalia to laugh at them. "Now go!" she announced, as she kissed her daughter's cheek before pushing her out the door.  
As she closed the door, her husband, Dragan, appeared behind her. "Did you just send our daughter out to play with that gypsy trash?" he questioned, his voice laced with vexation. Natalia sighed as she turned around, giving her husband a disapproving look. "Do not look at me like that, woman. You are just as bad as your brother," Dragan rebuked before returning to the living room, beer in his hand.

* * *

For the next two weeks, Vanja played with Wanda every day, from early morning and until their mothers would yell at them that it was time for dinner. It would often be just the two of them running around the playground, imagining running away together to exotic lands, or being whisked away by handsome princes on their horses. Pietro would sometimes join them, playing the evil dragon which held them captive, but he usually played with the neighborhood boys, though never straying too far away from the girls, always keeping an eye on them. In the evenings, all the children in the neighborhood would gather and play games together, often racing each other. Pietro always won when it came to racing, and each time Wanda and Vanja would cheer at his victory.

One day Natalia invited Marya and the children out for lunch. As the two mothers walked together, their children ran ahead, fooling around. "They are very close, your children," Natalia observed as Pietro held Wanda's hand when she couldn't keep up. "Yes. It has only been the two of them for a long time, and they are twins as well. They still sleep in the same bed sometimes," she revealed, laughing slightly at the sleeping image of her children. "They have taken a liking to Vanja," she added, turning her gaze towards Natalia. "I'm glad. I was worried she would be bored here in Sokovia," Natalia confessed as she smiled at Marya. "Your husband," Marya continued. "He does not like us very much, does he?" After the initial shock, Natalia bowed her head in shame, her cheeks reddening. "It's okay. As long as it doesn't affect our children, I can live with it." Natalia looked back up at the dark-haired woman by her side, and felt nothing but respect for her at that moment. "I don't share my husband's view of the world, and I would rather give my life than have them forced upon my daughter," Natalia revealed as she turned her head back forwards, keeping an eye on the children. As Vanja took both Wanda and Pietro's hands into her own, Marya let out a chuckle. "It seems she has not taken after her father."

* * *

Too soon it was time to leave Sokovia, thereby leaving the twins. As Dragan and Aleks packed the car, Natalia was conversing with Marya and Django, exchanging addresses. "I hope you'll visit again next summer?" Django asked, the tall man pulling his wife to his side. "I'm sure we'll visit again soon," Natalia divulged as the children came darting back, Vanja bumping into her legs. "Mama, can't I stay?" she asked, dark eyes looking hopeful. "Stay where?" her mother asked back in a joking manner, glancing at Marya and Django before returning her gaze towards her daughter. "Stay with Wanda and Pietro," the child replied as if it were the most obvious. "You can't stay here. You have to go home to your grandma and grandpa; they're waiting for you." The young girl's eyes started watering as her lip began trembling. "No! I want to stay," she yelled. "I want to stay with Wanda and Pietro." Django laughed wholeheartedly at the child's antics, before picking her up. Vanja rubbed her eyes, trying to dry up her tears. "Listen, _asja_ , don't cry. I promise you I will come visit," he joked, causing everyone to laugh. "No! I want Wanda and Pietro," the small child screamed as she hit Django's chest, which causes him to laugh harder. Natalia quickly took the small girl from the man's arms, scolding her for hitting the man. "Don't tell the girl off, Natalia. She just wants to be with her friends," Marya stated with a grin on her face, as they made their way to the car.

Wanda was standing beside her brother, holding his hand tightly while tears streamed down her cheeks as the car drove away with her best friend. "Oh, don't cry," Marya cooed, picking up her devastated daughter. "She'll come back soon." Wanda threw her arms around her mother's neck, burying her face in her hair as the two made their way back into the building. Pietro stood watching the car until he couldn't see it anymore before he felt his father's heavy hand on top of his head. "You will meet again, _čhavo_ ," was all he assured as the two stood side by side.

* * *

During the following months, Natalia exchanged many letters with Marya in order for their children to stay in touch, attaching pictures the children had drawn to each other, and sometimes sending small parcels filled with tokens and sweets. Dragan wasn't delighted when he found out, but the smile on his daughter's lips whenever a letter came made him endure it.

Summer turned to winter, which turned into spring, and soon enough the planning for the next trip to Sokovia started. As Dragan and Natalia were sitting by the kitchen table and their daughter lying on the floor, drawing yet another picture for her friends, the phone rang. Natalia rose up quickly, rushing over to answer it. The kitchen was quiet until a deafening scream filled it. Vanja looked up and saw her mother fall to the floor, her cheeks wet and open mouth quivering. The view was confusing for the little girl, who couldn't understand what had just happened; she had never seen her mother cry before. Her father rose so quickly up that his chair fell to the ground, startling the girl, who ran into her bedroom, hiding beneath her blanket as her mothers sobs filled the apartment. It wasn't until hours later that her mother had been able to explain to her that her Uncle Aleks had died.

* * *

When they reached Sokovia, they had to stay with some relatives, since Aleks's building had been completely demolished by the bombs. They had driven by, but couldn't get close since everything was blocked off, but Vanja could recognized the neighborhood. "Are we going to visit Wanda and Pietro?" she had asked her mother, who stared at her husband in search of an answer. "We... We don't know where they are, my doll," her father replied honestly. He didn't have the heart to tell his daughter that the only thing he knew was that their parents had died in the same bombings as his wife's brother. "Then we must find them," the girl had replied, sitting back in her seat, cheerful at the thought of seeing her friends again.

They weren't able to find the Maximoff twins until months later, when a call came, informing Natalia that they had been taken in by some distant Romani family members. She had tried to get their address, but with no luck. When the call ended, Natalia turned to her daughter, who was perched upon a chair, drawing yet another drawing for her Sokovian friends. At that moment the woman was grateful that her daughter wouldn't understand what had happened until years later, after they had moved from Serbia.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello everyone! So I know it hasn't been fully confirmed where Sokovia is, but since I've seen some signs and stills from the movie, it looks positively Serbian, so that's the setting of this story. Furthermore, I know that we don't know the names of the twins' parents, so I've just used the names of their adoptive parents from the comics, although not being familiar with them. I felt it was important for me to integrate the twins' Romani heritage, since nothing is mentioned of it in the movie, and it plays such an important part in the comics (or so I've read), which is the reason why I've put some Romani words into Django's speech pattern. I'm not one hundred percent sure, but the words in italics should respectively translate into 'teardrop' and 'boy'. Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2: The New Life

**A/N: This chapter contains mentions of abuse, as well as situations in which it directly occurs. If you are not comfortable with this, then it is perhaps a good idea to skip this chapter.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 2**

 _The New Life_

Her eleven year old self was sitting in their new suburban home, removing the contents of the boxes filling the room she had been given, when she came across an old shoebox. It was decorated with stickers and paint, making her wonder what was inside the colorful chest, and when she opened the lid, she remembered.

 _I haven't seen this for years_ , she thought, her fingers running across her name, which was written stunningly on the letter in front of her. She picked it up, her fingers gentle as to not cause any damage to the old paper.

As she opened the letter, she let her eyes dart across the white page with the beautiful handwriting. It was in Serbian, but she couldn't understand it, not when it was written, and for the first time since moving, Vanja found herself cursing for forgetting her mother tongue. She tried to make out some of the words, " _friends_ " and " _coming to visit_ ", as well as _Sokovia_ , which she knew was where her uncle had lived, when they were still in Serbia.

Her eyes scanned the pages, noticing the few names mentioned. Pietro and Wanda. Why did they sound so familiar to her? Had she met them? She turned the page, now looking at a drawing. The figures adorned the paper in her hands, their names written with a child's handwriting above them; Wanda, Vanja and Pietro. Her eyebrows furrowed at this. She must have been friends with them if they had sent drawings to each other, but she couldn't recall their faces.

Suddenly the door behind her opened. It was her father. "What are you doing, _lutka_?" he asked, looking around her room, noticing how little she had unpacked. "I just found something, and it caught my attention. Sorry," she apologized, bowing her head, eyes stuck on the paper in her hands. "Get back to work," was all her father ordered before closing the door again, leaving her in the silence. She returned the letter and the drawing into the envelope, before hiding the box under her bed, hoping her mother could answer her questions later.

* * *

It was quiet at the dinner table, the only sound coming from the television. Vanja was picking at the meet on her plate, her mind still stuck on the letters hidden in her room. Her mother was sitting beside her, making almost no noise as she ate, while her father was fixated on the television in the living room. He was watching football, and the two knew better than to make any noise when an important game was playing.

Vanja sighed deeply before taking her plate into the kitchen, throwing the rest of the food into the bin under the sink. Her mother soon joined her in the kitchen, a casserole in her hands. As she started washing the dishes, Vanja took a cloth, deciding to help her mother for once. "Mama? Who are Wanda and Pietro?" Her mother froze momentarily at the question before resuming her actions. "Why do you ask?" her mother asked back. She had hoped her daughter had forgotten about the two siblings from Sokovia, since it had taken her years to cease asking about their whereabouts. "I found some letters in one of the boxes. They had my name on them, so I tried reading them, but I couldn't understand," Vanja explained setting the dried glass back in its place in the cupboard. "What happened to them?" As her daughter looked at her with her large, dark eyes, Natalia let out a sigh. "You played with them the summer we visited your uncle in Sokovia. They lived on the floor below." Vanja's eyebrows furrowed at this. "If they lived in the same building then-" Before she could finish her sentence, her mother interrupted her. "Yes. They were in the accident, but they survived. Their parents did not." The kitchen was silent once again. _That must be horrible. Losing your parents like that_ , Vanja thought to herself as she finished helping her mother. "Where are they now?" she asked after a while. Her mother looked at her as she wiped her hands on the towel. "Don't know. They moved." At with that, Vanja felt the conversation was closed.

When she returned to her room, she immediately found the hidden shoebox, opening it again and emptying its contents all over her bed. She walked over to her radio, putting on the new CD her father had bought her a few weeks earlier before sitting down and trying to read the first letter again. After her mother had come into her room, telling her it was time for bed, Vanja had hidden the shoebox containing the letters from her childhood once again, swearing to herself she would understand every word one day.

* * *

It was late in the evening and Wanda was sitting in her room, eyes on the clock hanging on the wall. Pietro had gone out with his friends after school and hadn't come home yet, despite it being an hour past curfew. She chewed the inside of her cheek in fear of what was going to happen when he finally arrived.

After their parents' death, they had been sent to live with some of their Romani family in the outskirts of Sokovia, but neither liked it there; the people were too different from what they were used to. The Romani lived in broken down homes where their front yards still looked like battlefields and each fence was either teared half-way down or sprayed with graffiti, and made a living by selling cheap items at the local market or working for a price so low, it was illegal in every other country. Wanda and Pietro were lucky that Dušanka, the distant relative who had taken them in, and her husband, Vlatko, both had proper jobs and were able to feed them and buy them clothes.

Their new home wasn't anything to celebrate: the walls within were painted in the ugliest shade of yellow, while the floor was made of brown carpet. At one point Pietro had gotten so sick of the yellow color that he had attempted to draw over it with his crayons, which ended with him getting a beating from Vlatko. That night, as they lay curled up next to each other, tears dampening their pillows, Pietro promised his sister that one day he would get them out of there. That was several years ago, and since then he had received numerous beatings by the hand of his legal guardian.

Tonight, Wanda was sure he was going to get another; if there was one thing Vlatko didn't like, it was when the kids would defy him, and Pietro had a knack for it. He would get into trouble at school, get into fights and come late home, anything to embarrass Vlatko and tarnish his reputation.

She had almost fallen asleep when she heard the front door slam. She heard her brother take of his shoes, before making his way into the kitchen, and that's when all hell broke loose. Vlatko was shouting, demanding to know where the young boy had been all night, and Pietro yelling right back, telling him to mind his own goddamn business, resulting in a loud smack. Loud footsteps made their way through the hallway, and before she knew it, Pietro opened the door and slammed it shut. His eyebrows were furrowed, his cheek red and his eyes only showed hatred. He was pacing the room, which seemed tense.

Wanda didn't say anything as she watched her brother. His chest was heaving until the pressure became too much and he turned to the wall, punching his fist into the concrete. He clenched his jaw, letting out a groan before sitting down onto his bed, his eyes focused on the floor. "I hate him. I hate that idiot," Pietro muttered, his words virulent. Wanda just rolled her eyes at her brother, pulling her blanket up to her chest as she made herself comfortable. She found it funny that her brother would utter such spiteful words, yet do nothing about them, but she knew she was part of the reason why; he couldn't risk Vlatko throwing him out, because then he wouldn't be able to take care of her. She heard him throw his clothes on the floor before getting into bed and turning the lights off. "Goodnight. I love you." She heard him scoff across the room. "Love you too, Wanda," was all she heard before falling asleep.

When the twins came into the kitchen the following day, Vlatko had already left for work, leaving Dušanka and the kids at home. "Good morning," she greeted, a small smile on her lips. She stood by the stove, preparing breakfast before the twins had to leave for school. Wanda returned Dušanka's smile before sitting down by the table, waiting patiently. Her brother soon joined her, his hair messy and only dressed in his boxers. When he sat down, he slumped over the table. "It's too early," he moaned, causing Dušanka to let out a snort. "If you had gotten home earlier, maybe you wouldn't be so tired, _čhav_ o," she reminded him as she smacked him off the table so she could place a plate full of food in front of him. "Maybe I wouldn't be so tired if your husband wasn't such an asshole," he muttered under his breath, causing Wanda to giggle.

After finishing their breakfast, the twins got dressed and went to school. Pietro had recently gotten a bike, so he would ride it with Wanda sitting behind him. Usually they joined the rest of the children from the neighborhood, but lately the other kids at school had started teasing them, calling them names and racial slurs. Wanda didn't mind that much, knowing better, but Pietro was like a firecracker, only needing a small spark before bursting into flames. It was one of the many reasons why he so often got into fights at school.

As they rode on the bike down the neighborhood, Wanda closed her eyes and spread her arms, enjoying the feeling of the sunlight on her skin, reminding her of the summer before her parents died and all was well.

* * *

"Mama, where are your translating books?" Vanja asked as she stepped into the kitchen a few days later. "They are in the study. Why do you ask?" Natalia raised an eyebrow at her daughter's sudden interest in her books. Vanja walked over to the table, picking up an apple. "No reason," she replied, biting into the fruit before skipping out again.

Natalia shook her head, wondering what her husband would think. He would probably be delighted that his daughter had finally chosen to learn her mother tongue again, but less so when he discovered the reason. It was true what Marya had realized all those years ago: Dragan hadn't been fond of them, and had also been less than pleased when his wife and daughter kept the contact. He didn't want the filthy gypsies damaging his precious daughter, although his wife had several times tried to change his mind, but it is never a woman's place to lecture her husband, and Dragan had made sure to teach that to his wife.

Her parents thought Vanja was oblivious to the physicality of their relationship, however that was far from the case. She had seen the bruises covering her mother after a particularly heated argument, and heard the things they shouted at each other in Serbian, believing she didn't understand. Once she had even seen her father strike her mother.

Vanja had accidentally broken a piece of his car and had run inside in fear, but when her father entered their old home, her fear turned into terror. She had never seen her father so livid before. He was shouting her name, but she had hid behind the sofa in the living room, waiting for him to go away. Her mother had then entered from the kitchen, asking her husband what was wrong. When he had explained to her what had happened, she had tried to calm him down, reminding him that their daughter was young and didn't know better, but that had only fueled her father's anger, and he had struck her mother. When the back of his hand had made contact with her mother's cheek, Vanja had jumped in her seat, tears forming in her eyes. The sound had been so loud, she was worried her father had hit her mother's head off her shoulders. After he left the house, she had crawled over to her mother, apologizing while wiping her mother's tears away from her face. That had happened years ago, but the memory was still stuck in Vanja's mind. At times she wasn't sure if it really had happened, or if she had dreamt it.

When entering her mother's study she quickly found the books she needed before sprinting into her room. She slammed the books on top of her new desk before finding the letters from under her bed, pulling out an empty notebook. "Let's get started," she declared as she turned on her radio.

* * *

 **A/N: So that was chapter 2! I know that this chapter takes up a very serious issue such as abuse, but I felt it was important to include, since it used to be common for many Eastern European households. This story is moving quite slowly, I know, but I want to show what has made the characters into the people they are before, during and after the events with Ultron. I also wanted to thank all of you who chose to favourite and follow this story - thank you so much! And a special thanks to Hailey-Stone and P.K.723 for reviewing! Until next time..**


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